A Purrfect Alibi: A pawsitively gripping cozy mystery (The Oyster Cove Guesthouse Book 3)

Twenty-Seven Four days later….

The scent of molasses and cinnamon filled the Oyster Cove Guesthouse kitchen. Millie’s Aunt Gertie’s famous molasses cookies were in the oven, but they weren’t for guests this time. All the guests had left, so the baked goods were just for Mom, Millie, Mike and me as we sat around the old kitchen table discussing the strange turn of events over the past week.

Nero and Marlowe were at their stainless-steel bowls in the butler’s pantry enjoying a treat of salmon and looking quite pleased with themselves. They deserved the treat as we all felt they’d tried to help capture Myron.

“Hard to believe that Myron went to such lengths to cover up the original murder of Jedediah Biddeford.” Millie stood by the counter with an oven mitt on her right hand, ready to grab the cookies as soon as they were done.

“He had to, otherwise the bank could be in trouble because the initial funds were from ill-gotten gains,” Mike said. “He confessed to everything.”

“He sure went to a lot of trouble. Imagine killing someone and leaving that note and buckle!” Mom said.

“And using the Oyster Cove Guesthouse letter opener as the murder weapon to scare people off. He must have nabbed that on one of his visits,” I added. “He thought it through.”

“Yep,” Mike said. “He’ll be going away for a long time. I heard the Biddefords are suing the bank to get the original value of Jed’s treasure plus interest.”

“Oh dear,” Millie said. “I hope that doesn’t affect Josie’s loan on the guesthouse repairs.”

“I think the bank will be okay,” Mike said. “The Biddefords will settle for enough to get their cheese-sculpting business on track and make improvements. Plenty of money will be left. Myron’s cousin is taking over bank operations, I’m sure he’ll honor the loan.”

“Actually, I’m not worried about that. I got a little windfall from Esther.” I tapped the large manila envelope that sat in the middle of the table. I’d received it earlier that morning and was quite shocked at the contents.

Mew! Nero and Marlowe trotted over at the sound of Esther’s name. The cats had meowed at the window for twenty minutes when she left three days ago. She’d turned and waved goodbye to them, then studied the house for a few seconds before getting into the airport shuttle. She’d said something funny to me about “not worrying about the grand old house” right before she went out the door, but I hadn’t paid it much attention until the envelope arrived.

“What’s in it?” Mom asked.

I tipped the envelope and a pile of hundred-dollar bills slid out, along with a note.

Mom gasped.

Millie dropped the oven mitt.

Mike frowned.

“Where in the world did that come from?” Millie asked.

“Remember the secret hiding spot in the outhouse?” I asked.

Mom and Millie nodded.

“Well, turns out Esther was in there. Somehow she’d figured out that there was a secret hiding spot in there and she found a bunch of old coins. I guess she didn’t feel right keeping them and she sold them for modern currency and sent it to me to help with the repairs on the guesthouse.” I pulled a note out from under the bills. “In her note it says that she fell in love with the house and hopes the money will go a long way to helping restore it to its former glory.”

Mike angled his head sideways to read the note. “Huh. So, I guess she only seemed suspicious because she was looking for clues to the identity of Jed’s killer the whole time.”

“Yep,” I said.

“Interesting. I wonder why she was so keen on figuring out who Jed’s killer was and not as interested in Madame Zenda’s killer?” Mike asked.

I shrugged. “It turned out that one led to the other, so it all came out in the end.”

“Fantastic!” Millie bent down to pick up the oven mitt. “I knew that she wasn’t the killer all along.”

Now I was the one frowning. I seemed to recall that she was almost certain Esther was the killer, if the interrogation she was subjecting her to prior to us rushing up to the attic was any indication.

Mom was frowning at her, too. “But Millie, you said—”

Millie interrupted her with a wave of the oven mitt. “That’s all water under the bridge now. Seth did commend us for catching Myron. Of course, he claimed he was just about to wrap up the case with his own evidence, but there’s nothing like catching the killer with a gun in his hand pointed at the potential next victim.”

“Speaking of which, I think Victor got off a little too easy,” Mom said. “I was rooting for him as the killer.”

The oven timer went off and Millie took the cookies out, talking to us over her shoulder as she scraped the cookies off the baking sheet with a spatula. “Gail was too. I know she was disappointed Victor didn’t get arrested, but he didn’t do anything. Victor did seem very upset by the whole thing, I wouldn’t be surprised if he walked the straight and narrow from now on.”

“I don’t know about that. He did try to fake the whole communicating with Jed thing and even buried a cache of coins in a burlap sack near the gazebo so he could dig it up later and pretend he’d discovered the treasure!” Mom said.

“Ironically, he’d purchased the coins at Myron’s own bank,” Mike said. “He blurted that all out to Sheriff Chamberlain without prompting. I don’t think he’d make a very good criminal. And burying the coins wasn’t illegal, so I guess he goes free.”

“Well, hopefully that will be the last we see of him. I would like to see Gail get her revenge for him causing such sorrow to her friend, but I suppose everyone can’t get what they want. Karma will get him in the end.” Mom tapped the town newspaper that had been sitting on the table. “Anita came out ahead, though. She did get her scoop—though it wasn’t really the one she expected.”

The front page of the paper had the large image of Myron lying in the attic surrounded by the boxes and the various items that had fallen out of them. The cats were sitting on his backside and it almost looked like they were posing for the camera. Underneath a large caption read: Local Banker Thwarted by Ghost.

Anita had told us afterwards that she’d seen a shadowy figure—which we realized was Myron—lurking over by the side of the house just before the lights went out. She figured it wasn’t a power outage and went to the main electrical box, which was still located in its original position outside on the corner of the house, to investigate. It took her a while, but she figured out the circuits had been flipped and she turned the lights back on.

“Funny, though, it seems it took Anita a while to get up to the attic after turning the lights back on.” Millie took a large crystal plate down from the cabinet and started arranging the cookies on it. “And what was she doing lurking around here anyway?”

“She was meeting Victor. She said he had told her something big was going to happen and she might want to cover it.” I repeated what Anita had told me. “She claims she didn’t know he was planning on faking everyone out with those buried coins. She said she turned the lights on and then came inside as it all seemed suspicious. She heard the noises, but it took her a while to figure out we were in the attic.”

“Probably took some time to snoop around.” Millie placed the plate of cookies on the table and we all took one.

“I see she’s still working the ghost angle.” Mike pointed to the headline.

“Yeah.” Millie broke off a piece of her cookie and nibbled on it. “But the producer is no longer interested, seems he has a more interesting story developing in some little town called Mystic Notch over in the White Mountains.”

“Well, it’s all for the best, because Anita doesn’t really have a ghost story here.” I was sure there was no ghost at the Oyster Cove Guesthouse.

“Yes, but how did those boxes fall on Myron?” Mom bit into her cookie.

“The bureau leg was broken. I guess it must have been ready to let go and the added weight of all of us up there on those old floors must have shifted things in such a way that the leg buckled and the boxes toppled at exactly the right time.” The timing was suspicious, but that was my story and I was sticking to it.

“Maybe the cats had something to do with it,” Millie suggested. “If they jumped on the bureau, that could have been enough to cause the leg to break.”

Meow. Nero blinked up at us with his intelligent golden eyes. I was certain the cats were at Esther’s feet when the boxes toppled, but I didn’t say anything.

“Funny that Myron faked all that ghost business the whole time. He must have really wanted to scare people off.” Mom took a second cookie then paused with it halfway to her mouth. “Odd though, I wonder how he got things to keep falling off mantles and tables, even when he wasn’t here.”

I’d wondered about that too. “The house is old and settling and I think those things might have just fallen because things are uneven. Remember how Esther’s pen rolled toward the center of the room the night we caught Myron? It’s natural in an old house that things are uneven, right, Mike?”

“Sure, to some degree.” Mike didn’t seem as convinced at my explanation, but what else could it be?

“Of course that must be it,” Millie said. “And I’m glad this business is over. No more talk of murders or ghosts. I could use a little break from investigating.”

Mom scowled. “Well, I don’t know about taking a break from investigating, but I’m glad there’s a reasonable explanation for everything. After all, there’s no such thing as ghosts.”

Meow!

Thud!

The rolling pin, which had been on the counter, hit the floor. We watched in silence as it rolled toward the kitchen door.

“Well now.” Millie got up, gingerly retrieved the rolling pin and put it on the counter. “I guess that proves Josie’s theory about the house settling. As you can see, it rolled right toward the door. The counters must be a bit off level too. Maybe you should look into that, Mike.”

“Maybe I will. I’d love to have an excuse to spend more time here.” Mike’s pointed look made my cheeks heat and I ignored him, focusing on the tangy sweetness of the molasses cookie. “Or maybe you’d like to get away from Millie’s cooking and have dinner some time.”

I almost choked on the cookie. “Maybe.” I glanced at my mother. If she thought I was going on a date with Mike, she’d never let me live it down. But she wasn’t paying attention to our conversation, she was busy frowning at the rolling pin that was now innocently sitting on the counter.

Mom shoved the rest of her cookie in her mouth, tilted her head and looked at the ceiling. “Yes, I’m sure that’s it. The house is sagging. Has to be, since we all know there’s no such thing as ghosts.”

Nero pulled his tail in, out of the way of the rolling pin, which was picking up speed as it rolled toward the door. He glanced up at Jed. “Did you really need to do that?”

Jed smiled. “Sorry, just wanted to pull their legs one last time.”

“One last time?” A hopeful tone crept into Nero’s voice. Though he liked Jed well enough, he’d been secretly hoping the ghost wouldn’t stick around.

“Yeah, now that I’m free I’ve decided to hang around with Esther. I’m meeting her out at an event at some haunted house in Noquitt, Maine.” Jed winked at Nero. “Ha! We’ll show them what a real haunted house is like!”

“I have to admit that was quite a feat you pulled off in the attic.” Marlowe positioned herself at Mike’s feet and stared up at him adoringly. She knew he couldn’t resist that look and it usually resulted in a nice treat being handed under the table. “And here we thought you could only move small objects.”

“I thought that too! But when my Esther was threatened, I found the strength. I just couldn’t let that nasty banker hurt her! And to think Esther did all that and risked her life just to figure out who my killer was.” Jed beamed with pride.

“For a while I thought the killer might have been your wife’s ghost,” Nero said.

Jed ducked behind Millie’s chair. “Where?”

“I didn’t say I saw her, I just thought maybe all these shenanigans were her doing. You did say she couldn’t be trusted.” Nero put his paw on Rose’s knee and was rewarded with a tiny piece of muffin.

“Seriously?” Jed glanced around the room. “I mean, I’m not afraid of ghosts or anything, but I am afraid of my wife…”

“Nah, she’s not here.” Nero glanced around, his senses on high alert just to be certain. Nope. No ghostly vibes other than Jed’s.

“Oh, phew.” Jed came out from behind the chair. “Yes, she might have been in on it with Remington. And to think my trusted butler did me in and if it wasn’t enough to kill me and stick me in a wall, he stole my pen and my good shoes!”

“And the treasure,” Marlowe said. “At least now everyone knows that treasure is long gone and people will stop coming here looking for it.”

“Good thing Victor didn’t get to pull off his little stunt of digging up the coins he’d buried.” Nero hopped up on the bookcase and looked out the window. “The whole state would be here looking for more.”

“That was clever of you to send Esther for your little stash that was hidden in the outhouse. Good thing no one else discovered it all these years,” Marlowe said. “You could have told us it was there though.”

“Sorry I didn’t tell you. I was saving that for someone special. I’d hidden the coins there the night I buried the bulk of the treasure in the yard. I wanted to be able to get at some of my treasure. Couldn’t go digging the main stash up every time I wanted some extra coin. Course, I never got to even use any of it myself. I meant for Esther to keep that money, but she said it didn’t rightly belong to her. She loved this old house and wanted to see it fixed up like it was back when I lived here.” Jed looked at Josie. “We trust Josie to do that.”

Nero felt a rush of pride in his human. Josie might not be so swift in the area of cat-human communication, but she could definitely be trusted and Nero knew she was growing very fond of the guesthouse and would do right by it.

“So now that your killer has been named, you’re free to go to the other side.” Marlowe looked at Jed curiously. “But you choose to stay here.”

“Indeed. There’s nothing for me over there. But Esther and I have worked out a nice system of communication through her crystal ball.” Jed checked the clock on the stove. “Speaking of which, I have to sail off now. Gotta meet my lady. It’s been nice working with you cats. Perhaps we will meet again someday.”

And with that Jed slowly dissipated, leaving no evidence that he’d ever been there except for a slight mist on the floor.

The humans were cleaning up the dishes and Nero and Marlowe trotted to the front parlor. They were in dire need of a catnap. All this investigating was tiring.

“At least one of the guests here really could communicate with ghosts,” Marlowe said as she curled up in the blue velvet chair.

“I always knew Esther wasn’t the killer. She was too nice to us.” Nero chose a spot on the corner of the sofa. Resisting the urge to run his claws through the brocade fabric, he turned a circle, settling in with his tail wrapped around his nose.

“Yeah, but did you know who the killer was beforehand?” Marlowe asked.

“I suspected Myron,” Nero said. “But of course I didn’t want to say anything out loud. I mean, can you imagine if I’d suggested the whole thing stemmed from the fact that the butler did it? How clichéd! If on the off-chance I was wrong, I’d have been the laughing stock of the cat community.”

Marlowe slitted an eye open and looked at Nero, then sighed and snuggled deeper into the chair. “I’m glad both cases are solved. I’m looking forward to long restful days spent catnapping and chasing mice.”

“Me too,” Nero mumbled, already drifting off to sleep. “Hopefully it will be a good long while before another murder happens at the Oyster Cove Guesthouse.”

If you loved A Purrfect Alibi, don't miss Murder on a Mississippi Steamboat. Nora Marsh and her great-aunt Julia thought their steamboat river cruise would be the perfect relaxing holiday. But the discovery of a dead body means the race is on to find a killer instead! A gripping new 1920s cozy historical mystery.'

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